The Amazing Dancing Physicist
by dysprositos
Summary: Tony thinks he's really funny. Bruce is not inclined to agree.
1. The Amazing Dancing Physicist

And now, a break from your regularly-scheduled angst.

Warnings: language, drug use, self-injury...wait, wrong story. No warnings, this one's pretty clean!

I do not own the Avengers.

* * *

Bruce Banner did not like Lady Gaga.

Well, okay, she wasn't the worst thing he'd ever heard. But he was more into early rock. Like, pre-1970. Beatles? Sure. Buddy Holly? Definitely. Lady Gaga?

No.

So, when he walked into the lab at 8:30 on a Tuesday morning, and opened his music library, he was rather upset to see that every song had been replaced with Lady Gaga. Well, first he was puzzled. Then upset.

He hadn't even known Lady Gaga _had _that many songs.

Bruce did know two things, though. First, this was unmistakably the work of Tony Stark. Second, he knew that Tony would not have deleted all of his other music. It was probably just hidden. So it was just a matter of finding it.

As he scrolled through folders and sub-folders, he tapped his foot to "Bad Romance." He didn't realize he was doing it.

* * *

Four hours later, a bit after noon, Tony Stark decided it was finally time to get up and face the day. It was good to get an early start, sometimes, he thought.

He was currently working with Banner on making some adjustments to the suit. He'd never realized how useful it could be, having a nuclear physicist on staff. He liked having someone to bounce ideas off, someone who spoke the language and appreciated his endless drive to tinker and improve.

The first time Banner had said, "Well, don't you think it would be better if...", his expression rapt as he imagined some far-fetched possibility, Tony knew they would have a long and fruitful relationship.

They were mostly working on the 76th floor of the Tower. Tony decided he'd head down that way and see if Banner was around.

The labs were soundproofed (to stop Pepper from coming running every time something blew up), but as soon as the door to lab 2 slid open, Tony was almost blasted off his feet by the noise. Lady Gaga was playing at top volume. Considering how much Tony had spent on the sound system, that was impressive.

Tony had completely forgotten about pranking Bruce's music collection.

* * *

"I'm sorry, sir,"JARVIS said, "But you do not have access to that folder."

Bruce figured that meant the folder contained either extremely sensitive government contract information or his music files. "Can you at least tell me what's in it?"

"No, sir. Mr. Stark was very specific that _you _were not allowed to view this folder. Opening it will require voice authorization from Mr. Stark."

So it _was _his music. Bruce fumed. "What if I just do a _really _good impression of a jackass?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the AI replied, polite as ever, "But no impression of a jackass could ever come close to the reality of Mr. Stark."

Bruce snorted, wondering if Tony had intentionally programmed his AI to be that sarcastic, or if it had just come to be that way from listening to its creator for years.

With a sigh of acceptance, Bruce set his new music library to shuffle and repeat. If Gaga was all that was available to him, Gaga it would be. It was better than working in silence, he supposed.

For the next few hours, as he worked, he occasionally increased the volume. He didn't realize he was doing that, either.

* * *

When Tony walked into the lab, Bruce was standing at one of the tables, screwdriver in hand, making adjustments to one of the suit's repulsors.

And he was singing along to the music blasting from the speakers, foot tapping to the beat, looking on the verge of breaking into dance. "I'm just a holy fool, oh baby it's so cruel, but I'm still in love with Judas, baby..."

"JARVIS," Tony said, "I hope you're recording this to my personal drive. If you're not, start." Bruce couldn't hear him over the music, but the AI could.

Bruce continued his singing, and on the next chorus, he gave in, and _did _break into dance. It was exactly the awkward kind of dancing one might expect from a physicist, with lots of shuffling and very little regard for the beat. He continued in that vein for a few moments, then he executed a graceless spin.

And found himself face-to-face with Tony, who was about two seconds from hyperventilating, he was laughing so hard.

All the color drained from Bruce's face, then returned in a bright, violent blush. "Mute," he choked out.

Tony's hysterical laughter seemed very loud in the silence. Tears were streaming down his face. "Oh my God," he gasped. "I'm dying. I am literally dying." He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure.

Then he saw the half-mortified, half-pissed off look on Bruce's face, and lost it again.

"I'm glad you're so amused, Stark," Bruce growled. He could feel the heat radiating off his face, and knew his reaction was only fuelling Tony's mirth. Still, he couldn't help muttering, "Shut the hell up, Stark."

Tony showed no signs of complying with that request. Instead he said, "Oh, Banner, this video is going to go viral. 'The Amazing Dancing Physicist," it'll be famous. You'll be famous!"

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "You put this on the internet, Stark, and you'll regret it. I can guarantee it."

Tony took that as a personal challenge. "I'll do whatever I want, Banner. 'I'm a free bitch, baby.'"

Bruce ground his teeth together. If that's how Tony was going to be, well, so be it.

He'd been warned.

* * *

I think there's at least one more chapter of this.

Lyrics are from the songs "Judas," and "Bad Romance," which belong to Lady Gaga, or more likely, her record label.


	2. Paranoia

Warnings: none!

I do not own the Avengers.

* * *

"Hey! Aren't you that guy from that video? The dancing science geek?"

Bruce's grip tightened almost imperceptibly around his cup of coffee. He rarely ventured down to the coffee shop in the lobby of the building, but he'd been feeling a bit boxed in, and oddly, walking down seventy-six flights of stairs had helped.

He hadn't expected to meet any of his 'admirers.'

Slowly, he turned around, forcing the scowl off his face. "Yes, unfortunately," he said, trying hard not to growl.

The girl giggled. Her friend held out a napkin and a pen. "Can I have your autograph?"

Bruce felt his face heat up. He hastily scribbled his name on the napkin, and practically threw it and the pen back at the girls. He stalked back towards the stairs. He hoped that after he walked back _up _seventy-six flights he would feel less like _smashing._

* * *

Tony, to his credit, had done exactly what he said he would. No one could claim he wasn't a man of his word. Less than an hour after he had captured Bruce's dance act, it was online. The video had over a million hits in less than three days.

Some of the first viewers had been the other Avengers. Tony had, of course, sent each of them a link.

They were surprisingly tactful about it. Bruce supposed that was because they figured he was liable to turn into a green rage monster and smash them if they provoked him. Still, Clint had developed the irritating habit of humming "Paparazzi" whenever he thought Bruce was close enough to hear. Sometimes, Steve just looked at him and started laughing, having to excuse himself from the room. Natasha had offered him dance lessons, which he had emphatically declined.

Bruce figured that if he never danced again, it would be too soon.

He wasn't sure what Tony had been hoping to gain from his humiliation. As far as he could figure, Tony must have some combination of self-loathing and deeply ingrained masochism that had him _wanting _Bruce to lose it.

Or, Tony was just an asshole. That was always a possibility.

For three days, Bruce had been planning his revenge. He had warned Tony, after all, and Dr. Bruce Banner was _also _a man of his word.

Bruce figured that it was unlikely that he'd be able to catch Tony doing something as embarrassing as dancing badly to Lady Gaga. Besides, he didn't really want to humiliate Tony, as satisfying as that would be. He wanted to do something more...memorable.

He knew Tony was expecting something, though, so the billionaire would be on his guard. Bruce had to think of a way to work around that.

Or, maybe, work with it?

Suddenly, he had an idea.

* * *

Tony walked into lab 2 the next afternoon and saw Bruce was sitting at the workbench, working on part of the suit. When he heard the door slide open behind him, he looked up at Tony with an expression on his face that could only be described as "guilty."

Tony was immediately suspicious. "Hey, Banner, what're you doing?"

Bruce stammered, "Uh, nothing, Tony. Just making some adjustments."

"Oh? What kind of adjustments?"

"You know. Adjustments. Making it, uh, better." He wouldn't make eye contact. Suddenly, he stood. "I've got something else I need to do. See you later."

Tony watched his retreating back. Then he looked at his suit. He considered. Out loud he said, "No, he wouldn't have."

But, after the Gaga incident...maybe he _would _have.

Tony sat down with a sigh, and spent the next 12 hours running diagnostics on the suit.

At 3:00 AM, exhausted, he was ready to conclude that there was nothing wrong with it. In fact, as far as he could determine, Bruce hadn't done _anything _to it, improvements or otherwise. Which didn't make sense, because he'd seen how shifty the physicist was acting.

He groaned and settled in for more testing. _What did you do, Banner_?

* * *

By 11:00 AM, Tony had determined that there really was nothing at all wrong with his suit. He figured he'd been misreading Bruce. Really, the physicist was socially awkward at best, so it was totally possible that he'd just been having a moment.

Tony emerged from his lab and headed upstairs to grab some coffee. He considered going all the way up to his penthouse, but the Avengers' floor was closer, so he stopped there instead. After being up _all night_, he needed his caffeine. Desperately.

Bruce was sitting at the counter, and next to him was a fresh cup of coffee. "Here, Tony," he said. "JARVIS said you were heading up, thought I'd get you some coffee."

Grateful, Tony picked up the mug and drank deeply. He almost missed the oddly intense way Bruce was watching him drink. Almost.

"Um, what's up, Banner?"

Bruce quickly looked away. "Nothing, Tony. I don't know what you mean." There it was again, though. That shiftiness.

Tony slowly put the mug back on the counter. "Banner. What the hell?"

Now Bruce looked really confused. "Maybe you should get some sleep, Tony." But his expression bore the faintest trace of a smirk. He cast a sideways look at Tony's coffee.

Tony picked up on it immediately. "What's wrong with the coffee, Bruce?" he asked.

"Um, nothing's wrong with it, Tony. I mean, maybe the machine needs to be cleaned, but I didn't notice any-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Tony yelled, sleep deprivation and paranoia heightening his emotions.

Instead of denying Tony's accusation, though, Bruce just smiled and said, "There was nothing wrong with _my _coffee." With that, he sauntered from the room.

Well, that confirmed his guilt. Tony wondered what awful thing he had just consumed.

* * *

Tony spent most of the rest of that afternoon and evening hunkered in his lab, waiting for the effects of whatever Banner had dosed him with to kick in. He thought he felt a little nauseous, and his heart seemed to be beating too fast, but that was it.

By 8:00, he had determined that those effects were likely caused by his own anxiety, and that he probably had not been drugged. _Probably_.

He was about ready to call it a night, even though it was so early. He'd been up for almost two days straight, now, and thought that it was perfectly understandable at this point to go to bed at 8:00.

Tony rode the elevator up to his penthouse, and headed straight for the bar to pour himself a nightcap. And then he noticed Bruce, sitting on the couch, calmly reading a book. That was odd. Really odd.

"What are you _doing _here?" Tony asked, his voice edged with hysteria.

"Reading," Bruce answered, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for him to do.

"Yeah, but why _here_?"

"Why not?" He smiled, an expression that Tony found oddly menacing in the dim lighting.

Tony didn't answer. He started prowling around the room, trying to determine what was _different_, what had been _changed_. He KNEW Bruce was up to something. Why else would he be here?

Bruce watched as Tony paced around the room, moving objects, looking behind things. Soon, the room was in complete disarray.

Suddenly, Tony turned on Bruce, and yelled in his face, "WHAT DID YOU DO? TELL ME! WHAT DID YOU DO! I KNOW YOU DID SOMETHING!"

Bruce, still smiling, was completely unruffled. "Why do you think I did something, Tony?"

"It's _obvious_," Tony hissed. "You're mad because I posted that video of you online, and you've been aching to get back at me for _days_, I know it!"

Bruce's smile widened into a rather feral grin. "And I think I have."

"What?"

"I think I have gotten back at you."

"What did you _do_, Bruce? Stop screwing around with me."

"Tony," Bruce said, "I have done nothing." Tony still didn't get it, so Bruce continued. "I haven't done anything. I've been playing off your paranoia. I knew you'd think I'd tampered with your suit as revenge for the video, and so I kept you up all night trying to figure out what I'd done to it. I knew you'd think I'd put something in your coffee, and I kept you worrying all day what it was and what it was going to do. I knew you'd think I was up to no good here, and so you tore this room apart trying to find what I'd done. You've been awake for two days, and you're practically sick with anxiety, and I have done _nothing_." He paused. "Well, aside from catching this little vignette on video. I'd say we're even."

Dumbfounded, Tony only stared at him. Slowly, he said, "You didn't do...anything?"

"Nope. Nothing."

Tony looked for a moment like he was going to slug Bruce, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, he muttered. "Whatever, Banner. Sure. We're even."

He sulked into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Think I'm going to end this here, since it could otherwise stretch into infinity and I'm not quite ready to make that commitment yet.

Review, if you're so inclined.


End file.
